The Pieces Fall Into Place

Two lone figures stood in the darkness bathed in a pool of near-blinding light. Their faces were in shadows, yet their grim expressions were clear. Both gripped wicked looking blades and were slowly circling each other like vultures over a carcass. Then, as if a light were turned on, the darkness beyond was illuminated to show death, destruction and chaos. It was as if Hell's gates had been thrown open and every demon and all sorts of other nasties were pouring out into the world. This new light also illuminated one of the figures' faces. It was Harry. Harry and someone else were stuck in the middle of a battle. They were alone and faced the hoards that rushed towards them. They had stopped circling one another and stood back-to-back facing the onslaught. There was the clash of metal as the battle began. Harry took down demon after demon with his blade and the mysterious stranger did the same. They were fighting for their lives and fighting with everything they had. Harry looked in horror as more and more demons began to swamp him and his ally. There was no way out. They were both caught by the demons. The world began to swirl as the demons begin ripping and tearing at him. The swirling intensified and increased until the whole world was one big blur except for the center, where both Harry and the mysterious stranger were being torn apart. Then an ear-piercing scream shook the world...

Harry jolted up in a cold sweat. He sat up in his bed and stared blankly at the wall in front of him. This dream was becoming an ever more frequent visitor. Harry didn't know what to make of it. The one thing Harry did know was that the dream meant bad news. He had had strange dreams before, and they had always turned into some evil omen. He squinted at the watch on the nightstand. It was 3:34 in the morning. Harry considered getting up and writing to Sirus about the dream, but remembered with a pang. Sirius wasn't here anymore. There was no Sirius to write to. Hot tears filled eyes that have seen far too much suffering for someone his age. Brushing the tears aside and telling himself that crying wouldn't really help anything, Harry thought of school and Dumbledore. That almost cheered Harry up. He was going back to Hogwarts in two days and he could get Dumbledore's advice on the dream.

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Draco paced across his bedchamber. The dream had awakened him. Again. This was the thousandth time he had had that dream this summer, and Draco was beginning to become VERY brassed off. It was only a stupid dream after all. Bollocks to the battle, the swirling or the mysterious figure fighting next to him. A glance at the clock told him that it was 3:34. Running a hand through his sleep-tousled hair, Draco stopped pacing and wearily decided to climb back into bed. It was one of the last nights he would spend in his own chamber for a long while and he wanted to savor the moment. In a few days, Draco would be returning to Hogwarts for his sixth year. Lying in his bed, Draco fell back into a fitful slumber.

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